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<title>Defenestration (Noun). The act of throwing someone out a window. by Commander_Taco</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30094473">Defenestration (Noun). The act of throwing someone out a window.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Commander_Taco/pseuds/Commander_Taco'>Commander_Taco</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Hannibal One Shots [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hannibal (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Hannibal (TV) Season/Series 02, Hannibal (TV) Season/Series 03, Post-Season/Series 02, Season 2 spoilers, TW hospital stuff, tw injury</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 22:07:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>864</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30094473</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Commander_Taco/pseuds/Commander_Taco</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Alana thinks back on why she's in the hospital.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Hannibal One Shots [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2214381</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Defenestration (Noun). The act of throwing someone out a window.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Days of staring at the ceiling seemed to blur, leaving Alana Bloom alone with her thoughts. Everybody refused to talk about what happened around her. The doctors, her family, co-workers, friends. They all opted to call it </span>
  <em>
    <span>“The Incident”</span>
  </em>
  <span> or </span>
  <em>
    <span>“The Accident.”</span>
  </em>
  <span>  But that fateful night was no accident.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alana wouldn’t say she had a good memory, but she remembered every moment of that day. Calling Will; telling him that he was to be arrested (along with Jack). Him hanging up on her. It wasn’t the weirdest phone call she’s engaged in, but it left the psychiatrist confused in her car. Now that she thought about it, it made sense, why Graham hung up so quickly. What sort of reaction was normal when being warned of your upcoming arrest? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Later, she went to Hannibal Lector’s house. Alana remembered thinking to herself:</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“What the hell am I doing here?”</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe she had wanted to speak to Hannibal on this rainy night. About...whatever. It didn’t matter, because she decided to turn around and leave. But something was wrong. The woman could </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel it.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Or she had just seen the door ajar out of the corner of her eye. Turning back, she pulled a pistol out of her purse. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <b>And entered the house. </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Often, Alana Bloom would ask herself what would have happened if she hadn’t entered that house. She wouldn’t have broken her bones in a million pieces (like a teacup; shattered on the asphalt). She wouldn’t have found out who the Chesapeake Ripper was. She could have stayed blind. But she </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> entered, calling out Jack’s name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alana learned how to use a pistol a long time ago. Her dad had told her that every decent American citizen should. She disagreed with her father on many topics, including that one. No, she chose to listen to his argument about self-defense instead. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It came in handy now as the psychiatrist walked through a house she had been inside so many times before, the gun pointed in front of her. What would she have done if she had checked the gun? Seen that there weren’t any bullets inside? Perhaps Alana would have waited outside for the police to arrive, and none inside would have been the wiser. But again, she hadn’t. Her father would have been furious to hear that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nothing could have prepared her for what she saw next. Doctor Hannibal Lector, standing in the kitchen. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Drenched in blood.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She remembered asking herself whose blood it was, but she knew the answer </span>
  <em>
    <span>(subconsciously)</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Or at least could make a decent guess.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Hannibal.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> She whispered. “Hannibal!” Louder, this time. He had turned, and Alana wouldn’t forget the look in his eyes. At first, it was a bloodthirsty look. Of someone who was so close to winning, so close to their victim. It morphed into a look of sadness, of </span>
  <em>
    <span>pity.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he told her where Jack was, her eyes glanced over to the pantry door. There was blood on the ground. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“I was so blind.”</span>
  </em>
  <span>  She remembered saying. Feeling </span>
  <em>
    <span>betrayed.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Hannibal respected her, she knew that now. He didn’t want to kill her. But she tried to shoot him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alana had never felt such terror as the moment when the  empty </span>
  <em>
    <span>clicks</span>
  </em>
  <span> filled the air around the pair. She turned on her heel, and ran. Up the staircase, even as he grabbed at her heel. Hannibal was faster than her, she knew that. But somehow, she managed to land a kick with a heel directly at his face. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Did he let her get away? She saw him taking his sweet time as she entered a bedroom. He vanished from her sight as she slammed the door shut and locked it. Alana could only hear her own frantic heart beating, and was forced to take a moment to breathe. She was thankful she found the spare clip in her bag, but did it really help? Firing twice into the door scared Hannibal, to be sure. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But if she had listened closer, she probably would have noticed Abigail in the room. Abigail Hobbs, her former client. A girl she hadn’t expected to see; a girl presumed dead. She barely heard an apology escape the teen’s lips before she was harshly pushed backwards. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Straight through the large window.</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She didn’t remember much after hitting the ground.The searing pain, across her entire body. Will arriving, but less of what she said to him and more of how scared he looked. He didn’t know this would happen, but he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh so sorry.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alana wouldn’t call it an </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘accident.’</span>
  </em>
  <span> Assault, maybe? A defenestration? She always thought that word was odd. Never did she think that she would have an excuse to use it frequently. Whenever she had visitors, the psychiatrist poked fun at it, trying to relieve the fear of her loved ones. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It felt like a betrayal. Not that she dodged a bullet. She wished she could know why Abigail had pushed her out the window. Alana Bloom knew that the teenager was just as scared as her, however. She didn’t blame her (couldn’t ever blame a child).  Instead, she blamed </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hannibal</span>
  </em>
  <span> for this. And she would get revenge. </span>
</p>
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